Sometimes I find myself at a crossroad; I'd spend hours on end wondering what to think of myself, of the world, and of the people who surround me. Sometimes I will just sit in the dark and wonder how I got here. Sometimes I wonder, despite all these people whose voices echoing in my head shatter the echoes of silence that fill the room. I often will think to myself, "Hey, maybe it's not so bad. Maybe being alone in a crowded room is a good thing." But then I open my eyes, and there's no one there.
Those voices are all in your head.
"They may be in my head," I find myself saying. "But that doesn't mean they aren't real."
You need to stop talking to yourself.
I'm not. I'm talking to them.
Who are you trying to convince? There's no-one-out-there.
They are right after all. There is no one out there. And the people in here aren't really people. They're just voices.
We're not even really voices; we're echoes of the silence lingering in your mind.
Silence…
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